


The Perfect Gift

by Alisanne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-12 20:01:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9088123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alisanne/pseuds/Alisanne
Summary: Harry needs help, and gets it from an unlikely person.





	1. The Perfect Gift - Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Challenge:** Written for DracoHarry100's Christmas prompts # 1 - 6: UglyChristmas sweater / socks, Icicles, Inappropriate (new or re-written) Christmas carols, Stockings, Break-up or lonely during the holidays, and Christmas cards.
> 
> **Disclaimer:** The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
> 
> **Beta(s):** Sevfan and Emynn.

~

The Perfect Gift - Part 1

~

“Are you sure a book’s a good idea, mate?” Harry asks. “Doesn’t she already have all of them?” 

Ron shoots him a frazzled look. “Can you think of anything else to get her?” 

Harry, in fact, cannot, and, shrugging his shoulders in defeat, he follows Ron towards the new bookshop that’s just opened in Diagon Alley. It’s so cold out there are icicles hanging off the bright red awning. 

As they enter the shop, he looks around. It’s cosy, with a fireplace in a corner and a Christmas tree in the back. The fireplace has stockings hanging from it, and greenery is adorning the mantel. It’s more festive than Harry’s flat. Clearly the shop is meant to be place one can curl up with a book and read. 

“Right,” says Harry. “I say we split up. You go through the magic theory section and I’ll take Arithmancy.” 

Ron scowls. “Why do you get Arithmancy? I’m her boyfriend.” 

Harry raises an eyebrow. “Is there some romantic connotation to Arithmancy that I’m unaware of? Fine, you go to Arithmancy and I’ll take magic theory.” 

Ron sighs. “Sorry, I just…I want to get this right, you know? This is our first Christmas together as an official couple and I want her to love this gift.”

Harry smiles. “She loves you. There’s no way she’s going to be upset no matter what you get her. Relax, you’re not breaking up over this.” 

“I hope not,” mutters Ron. “Being alone during the holidays would suck, especially since everyone else has someone.” 

Harry coughs. “Well, not _everyone_.” 

Ron’s eyes go wide. “Shit, I’m sorry, mate. I wasn’t thinking—”

Harry shakes his head. “No worries. It’s not like Ginny and I were anything more than casual anyway.” 

“Still, that was insensitive of me.” 

Harry grins. “And now I know Hermione’s had an influence on you.” 

“Shut it, you.” Ron’s blushing. “Okay, back to the topic. What are you getting her?” 

Harry sighs. “Tell you what, you search the shop, look for a book, I’ll come up with some other alternative.” 

“Are you sure?” At Harry’s nod, Ron beams, clapping Harry on the shoulder. “You’re the best mate a bloke could ever have,” he says. “I’ll be right back.” 

Waving him off, Harry wanders around the front of the shop, meandering in and out of the stacks of books. As he walks, he considers other gift ideas for Hermione. He’s still deep in thought when he hears a familiar voice. 

“…believe you wore those awful socks, Greg. What’s that on them? Trolls?” 

Peering around a bookshelf, Harry spots an unlikely group of people. Draco Malfoy, Luna, Gregory Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson are seated on a sofa. 

Goyle glares at Parkinson. “Luna gave them to me, so shut it.” 

Parkinson rolls her eyes. “Sorry, Lovegood,” she says, tone snide.

Luna, who appears to be filling out Christmas cards, looks up. “It’s fine, Pansy,” she says. “I know it’s only because of your poor self esteem that you lash out anyway.” 

Parkinson’s mouth drops open. “What did you just say to me, you—?”

Malfoy smirks. “You heard her fine, Pansy. And she’s right, so unless you want to continue to hear things you don't like, you’ll shut it.” 

“But she—!”

“And they’re Nargles,” continues Luna as if Parkinson isn’t sputtering. “I made them myself. Greg’s feet need protection.” 

Malfoy smiles at her and it’s gentle, sweet. Harry gasps. Malfoy’s face completely changes when he looks at Luna. Gone are the faintly cynical lines around his mouth, and his eyes actually sparkle. “They’re brilliant, Luna.” 

Parkinson huffs, but she finally settles. “So I’ve rewritten another Christmas carol,” she announces. “Want to hear?” 

“No!” says Malfoy. “You’re horrible and your rewrite of ‘Oh, Holy Night’ has already ruined my childhood.”

“Relax,” says Parkinson. “Jingle Bells, Merlin smells, Godric’s laid an egg—”

Harry is still trying to reconcile the scene he’s watching when Luna looks up and straight at him. “That’s nice, Pansy,” she says. “But you should stop. You’re confusing Harry.” 

And suddenly eight eyes are turned towards him. Harry steps back, but it’s too late. “Join us, Harry!” Luna says, and, slowly, Harry walks towards them. 

“Er, hello, everyone, ” Harry says. “I was just waiting for Ron. He’s looking for a book for Hermione for Christmas.” 

“Doesn’t she already have all of them?” Parkinson sneered. 

Malfoy elbows her and she rolls her eyes. 

Harry clears his throat. “Actually, I said the very same thing earlier.” 

“What are you going to get her, Harry?” asks Luna. 

Harry spreads his hands. “I have no idea.” 

“You need an expert shopper,” says Parkinson. “I know just the person.” She smirks at Malfoy, who colours. 

“Er, who?” Harry asks. 

“She means Draco,” says Luna, calmly gathering up her cards and putting away her quill. “He can pick the perfect gift for anyone.”

Malfoy coughs. “So, I like shopping,” he says, sounding defensive. “Hex me.” 

“Well,” says Luna, standing and pulling Goyle with her, “now that that’s settled, we should go. Come along, Pansy.” 

Parkinson looks outraged. “What? Why should I leave?” 

“Because Harry and Draco need to talk. Harry needs to tell Draco about Hermione so he can help pick her gift.” Luna stares at Parkinson and, amazingly, Parkinson drops her eyes and follows meekly. 

Malfoy, who had also stood up, watches them leave before turning back to Harry. “We don’t have to do this,” he says. “Luna can have odd ideas—”

Harry smiles. “Yeah, she can. But she’s right, I do need help, so if you’re willing to help—”

After a moment, Malfoy nods. “I’m willing.” 

“Great.” Harry bites his lip. “I just need to find Ron and let him know I’m leaving and then we can go.” 

“All right.” Malfoy smiles faintly. “Lead the way.” 

~


	2. The Perfect Gift - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malfoy takes Harry somewhere unexpected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Challenge:** Written for DracoHarry100"'s Christmas prompts # #7 - 12: Christmas shopping nightmare, First Christmas after the war, What to buy for the wizard who has everything?, Ice skating, Secret Santa with embarrassing/hilarious results, Elf costume. 
> 
> **Disclaimer:** The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
> 
> **Beta(s):** Sevfan and Emynn.

~

The Perfect Gift - Part 2

~

Harry locates Ron in the romance section, and in his hands are two books featuring blokes with long hair, wide shoulders, and impossibly small waists embracing birds with heaving bosoms and flowing outfits. He has a puzzled look on his face as he looks back and forth between them. “Er, you _are_ still shopping for Hermione, right?” Harry asks. 

Ron winces, dropping the books. “I picked a serious book for her, and now I’m thinking I should throw in another book for enjoyment.” He blinks when he looks past Harry and sees Malfoy standing a respectable distance away. “Wait, is that Malfoy? What’s he doing here?” 

“He’s going to help me shop for Hermione.” 

Ron raises an eyebrow. 

Harry shrugs. “Luna’s idea,” he says. “Don’t ask me to explain. Apparently Malfoy’s some sort of expert shopper.” 

“Uh huh.” Ron shakes his head. “Well, good luck with that, mate.” 

“Hey, I have no idea what to get her, so what can it hurt, right?” 

“Right.” Ron hums. “And getting to spend time with the bloke you used to follow around for months on end because he was ‘up to something’ has nothing to do with it?” 

“He was up to something at the time!” Harry looks away from Ron’s suddenly speculative gaze. “Anyway, I’m off.” 

“With Malfoy.” 

“Yep.” 

“All right, but that sounds like a Christmas shopping nightmare to me, mate.” Ron sighs. “And just…be careful, all right? Don’t make me have to avenge you or anything.” 

Harry laughs. “I think I’m safe. He works in the Ministry now, remember?” 

“Yeah? So did Umbridge.” 

Harry grimaces. “Point. Anyway, I’ll be fine. And if he tries to get me to buy anything dodgy I’ll dump him and give Hermione something from Grimmauld Place’s attic.” 

Ron makes a face. “As long as it’s not a dead elf head.” He blinks. “Hey, although one of those monstrosities would probably work for the office Secret Santa.” 

“Ew. I don’t dislike anyone enough to do that to them.” Shuddering, Harry turns away. “See you later.” 

“Yeah, okay.” Ron returns to looking at the romance books. 

Harry grins. “And I’d pick that one,” he says, pointing to a book with a red-haired bloke. “‘Love’s Savage Embrace’.” 

“Yeah?” Ron frowns. “Why?” 

“The bloke on the cover reminds me of you.” And, dancing out of the way of Ron’s hex, Harry leaves. 

Malfoy falls into step beside him. “Right, Potter. So what’s the budget for this project?”

“Budget? I hadn’t really thought about it.” Harry bites his lip. “I mean, I don’t want to spend more than Ron, but I also don’t like the idea of being cheap either.” 

Malfoy nodded. “If Weasley’s getting her books, we should be safe spending in the fifty to sixty Galleon range. Is that acceptable?” 

Harry nods. “Yeah, that works.” 

Malfoy purses his lips in thought. “Excellent, I can work with that. One other question. What’s her favourite colour?”

“Periwinkle blue.” 

Malfoy stares at him. “I’m surprised you actually know that. Well done.” 

“Thanks.” Harry shoves his hands in his pockets and wordlessly casts as a Warming Charm as they walk outside. “She _is_ my best friend.” 

“Right.” Malfoy stops for a moment, his eyes scanning the street. He nods to himself. “Okay. This way,” he says, starting off.

Harry follows, but quickly falls behind. He’s about Malfoy’s height, maybe slightly shorter, but somehow Malfoy manages to glide through the crowd like a cat, never bumping into anyone. Harry, on the other hand, has to keep saying, “Excuse me,” and “Pardon me,” as he tries to keep up, and he seems to bump into everyone. 

Soon, Malfoy’s in the distance, and Harry, feeling like he’s swimming upstream, struggles to follow. All he sees of Malfoy is his backside, which isn’t a bad view if Harry’s honest with himself. 

Finally he reaches the end of Diagon Alley where the crowd is thinner. “There you are,” says Malfoy, leaning against a wall, waiting. “What kept you?” 

“Sorry,” Harry pants. “How’d you do that?” 

Malfoy raises an eyebrow. “Do what?” 

“Get through the crowd like that.” 

Malfoy smirks. “Natural talent. Now come on, we have a bit of a walk.” 

“Then why don’t we Apparate?” Harry asks. 

“Because Muggles tend to get upset when people appear out of thin air.” 

“Muggles?” Harry blinks. “We’re going to a Muggle shop?” 

“No. We’re going to a wizarding shop in Muggle London.” 

“Oh,” Harry says, trying to think of a polite way to explore that further. 

Malfoy snorts. “I can hear you thinking all the way over here, Potter. Just ask.” 

“I never thought you’d be one to go to Muggle shops, that’s all,” says Harry. 

Malfoy exhales. “I might not be but for the war. That first Christmas after the war, no one wanted to sell to a Malfoy, so I had to find alternate places to buy gifts.” They turned a corner and were in a busy shopping district. “But, as it turns out, Muggles are quite inventive.” 

Harry smiles. “Yeah, they are.” He clears his throat. “So, how’d you become a shopping expert, anyway?” 

Malfoy snorts. “You’ve seen my parents. What do you get for the witch and wizard who have everything? I’ve had to get pretty…inventive over the years.” 

They pass several high-end shops, all of which have glittering displays in their windows. They then walk past a park with a frozen pond. There are skaters and Harry wishes they could slow a bit so he could get a better look at them, but Malfoy seems to be on a mission. Harry starts to drop back to study the skaters. It looks fun and he sighs. He’s never been skating.

“Come on, Potter,” Malfoy says once he notices Harry’s not keeping up. “The shop we’re going to isn’t open that late.” 

“Right, sorry,” says Harry, hurrying his steps.. He carefully keep himself from ogling Malfoy’s arse again. “What kind of shop is this?” 

“A magical one.” 

“Yes, but—”

“Sh, we’re here.” Malfoy comes to a stop in front of a red door. He raps sharply three times. 

A tiny hole opens in the door. “Wot?” someone asks. 

Malfoy leans close. “We need to see the big guy.” 

“Who’s we?” 

In reply, Malfoy raises his wand.

A moment later the door opens and Malfoy walks in. Harry, on alert, follows. 

“Welcome, wizards,” says a voice from the vicinity of Harry’s feet. 

It’s dark, and it takes a moment for Harry’s eyes to adjust, but when he can see, he gapes. It’s an elf in a Christmas elf costume. “This way,” the elf says, gesturing. “Follow me.” 

~


	3. The Perfect Gift - Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Expert help is at hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Challenge:** Written for DracoHarry100's Christmas prompts #13 - 18: Work Christmas party with spiked punch, Gift gone horribly wrong, Someone lost a bet and has to do something outrageous, Christmas Tree, Introducing Christmas traditions to each other, Hogwarts at Christmas. 
> 
> **Disclaimer:** The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
> 
>  **Beta(s):** Sevfan and Emynn.

~

The Perfect Gift - Part 3

~

“Where the hell are we?” Harry whispers as they’re led through a series of dark hallways. Is he going to find something good for Hermione here, or is his attempt to get her a good gift about to go horribly wrong?

Malfoy’s teeth flash in the dark. “Relax, Potter. You’re safe. And as for where we are— Let’s just say I don’t want to spoil the surprise.” 

Harry snorts softly. “And I don’t want to be startled and inadvertently hex someone I shouldn’t,” he replies. 

Malfoy sighs. “No one here’s going to hurt you. You have my word.” 

Malfoy’s word. Oddly, that does make Harry relax, and, as they continue, Harry’s eyes adjust more and he begins making out details. Like patterns on the wallpaper depicting Christmas themes like holly and ivy and small snow scenes. 

They walk up to a set of open doors. “Please to be waiting here,” says the elf before scampering off. 

Curious, Harry looks inside, only to see elves staggering about, drinking cups of something foaming. The room’s decorated with a huge Christmas tree in the corner, and garland and tinsel everywhere. One elf’s standing on a box in the corner singing off-key loudly. Harry blinks.

Malfoy leans against the wall to wait. 

“I think they’re having a party,” Harry says after watching for a few moments. 

Malfoy peers around the edge of the door to look. “So it seems. Well spotted.” He smirks. “And if I didn’t know better I’d say the punch is spiked. I bet that one that’s singing lost a bet.” 

Harry nods. Now that Malfoy’s said it, it’s obvious they’re tipsy. There are about five elves hanging from the chandelier, several are weaving as they walk, and another couple are in the corner… Harry quickly averts his eyes. Some things cannot be unseen. 

Malfoy, of course, has to say something. “I say, are those two elves in the corner shagging?” 

Harry, who’s turned away to stare up at the ceiling, shakes his head. “Nope. I didn’t see that.”

“How could you miss it?” Malfoy laughs. “Oh, I see. Salazar, don’t tell me the great Harry Potter is a prude?” 

“It’s not prudish to have no need to know what elves get up to when they—” Harry waves his hand in the general direction of the party, “—do things together.” 

“Ah.” Malfoy hums. “So it’s just the fact that they’re elves that you object to? Or would you refuse to watch a hot couple if they decided to display their…activities in public?” 

Harry bites his lip. He’s seen people making out. And, Merlin help him, he hadn’t looked away. 

Malfoy’s openly laughing. “Well, well. Harry Potter is a species-ist.” 

“I’m a what?” asks Harry, glaring at him. 

“You don’t think other species are attractive enough to deserve to shag in public.” Malfoy smirks. “My, my, what would Granger say?”

Harry scowls. “Hermione would have no problem with me not wanting to watch anyone shag in public, be it two elves or two birds, or a bird and a bloke.” 

Malfoy raises an eyebrow. “There’s one group you conspicuously left out there, Potter. What about two hot blokes? Would you watch them?” 

“I—of—of course not—” Harry stutters. He swallows, realising his stumbling over his answer is unlikely to go unnoticed. 

“Oh yes,” murmurs Malfoy, a small smile on his face. “I’m convinced.” His eyes narrow. “So, does your girlfriend know you like watching men go at it?” 

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Harry snaps. “We broke up because I’m gay!” He crosses his arms over his chest. 

“Oh.” Malfoy looks nonplussed for a moment. “Look, Potter, clearly I hit a nerve and I didn't mean to—”

“Shut it, Malfoy,” Harry growls. “I am not talking about this with you.” 

“Right.” Malfoy exhales. “Fair enough.” 

As the silence grows awkward, Harry sighs. “Um, look, could you not say anything to anyone? I’m not in the closet, per se, but _the Prophet_ would have a field day—”

“I won’t publicize that you’re bent, Potter.” Malfoy leans against the wall again, closing his eyes. “I know how it is. After all, I’m pretty closeted myself.” 

Harry’s mouth drops open. “You mean you’re—?”

Malfoy cracks open one eye. “Yes. Why, did you think you were the only one?” 

“No!” Harry huffs. Why must Malfoy be such an arse about everything? “I just…I didn’t know.” 

“You mean because it never came up in all the intimate conversations we had back at Hogwarts?” Malfoy asks, tone dry. 

Despite himself, Harry smiles. “Yeah, I guess when you put it like that—”

Malfoy shrugs. “I’ve known I was gay since I was ten, Potter. I had an inkling about you when we were fifteen, and that hunch was confirmed when we were sixteen and you were stalking me.”

“I didn’t stalk—!”

Malfoy raised a eyebrow. 

Harry exhaled. “All right, fine. I did. But it wasn’t like that. I knew you were plotting something.” 

“That’s valid.” Malfoy shakes his head. “If I could go back in time I’d change so many things—”

“Yeah, we all would,” whispers Harry, thinking about all the people who died during the war. 

Malfoy straightens up. “Merlin, we’re getting maudlin. Enough of that. Let’s change the topic.”

“You’re right,” says Harry. “Okay. So, what Christmas traditions do you and your family have?”

“Traditions?” Malfoy smiles. “We’re more about Yule, actually. The Yule log, mulled wine—” He laughs softly. “The first time Mother let me have mulled wine I was staggering about just like those elves in there. How about you? What are your traditions?” 

Harry sighs. “I didn’t have any until I arrived at Hogwarts. My first real Christmas was there. That was when I exchanged gifts with people for the first time.” 

Malfoy blinks. “Is your family in some odd cult that don’t celebrate the holidays?” 

Harry snorts. “Oh no, they celebrate. I just wasn’t included.” 

Malfoy’s mouth drops open. “What do you m—?”

“He is ready to see you, wizards.” The elf who’s let them in is again standing before them. “This way.” 

They start off again, and only walk a short distance before the elf stops, gesturing at a closed door. “He’s in here.” 

The elf knocks.“Come in,” someone inside calls out.

Harry blinks as the door opens and they walk into what looks like a toy workshop. There are wooden toys everywhere, all in various states of being put together. And in the centre of it all is the largest elf Harry had ever seen. He’s almost as tall as Harry, but with the distinct ears of his kind. His eyes are a piercing blue, and when he gazes at Harry, he seemed to be looking to the very centre of his soul. 

“Visitors, sir. Wizards,” says the elf, bowing. 

“Thank you, Tinky.” The large elf chuckles. “Well, what have we here? You’re back, are you, Draco Malfoy? And you’ve brought a friend.” 

Malfoy bows. “Yes, sir. His name is—”

“Harry Potter.” The large elf stands up. “I know everyone who’s ever been a child. Alas, Mr Potter was never really allowed to be one, were you, Harry? I tried to come to you, you know, but was never allowed.” His eyes go hard. “What is left of your family does not have the true Christmas spirit.” 

Harry shivers at the look in his eyes. “Who are you?” 

The elf smiles, and the darkness dissipates. “You can call me Nick.” 

Harry doesn’t miss the careful phrasing. “Is that your name?” 

“In some places.” The twinkle in Nick’s eyes remind Harry of Dumbledore for a moment. “Now, you came here for a reason, no?” 

Harry nods. “I need a gift for my friend Hermione.” He looks around. “And no offence, but I think Malfoy made a mistake bringing me here. Toys aren’t her kind of thing—”

Nick’s laugh is boisterous and jolly. “Alas, no. Hermione wouldn’t be interested in these. She requires something special. Something I don’t have here. But I believe I can help you choose where to get it.” He gestured to them. “Come along.” 

Harry follows Nick, hyperaware of Malfoy behind him. They walk out of the workshop and into a round room that seems to extend into the sky. It’s stacked with parchments reaching up as far as Harry can see. 

Nick reaches out and one parchment detaches itself from a stack to float into his hand. He reads it and smiles. “Here you are.” 

Harry takes the parchment. “What’s this?” He reads a series of numbers that make no sense. 

“Your answer,” says Nick, and suddenly the room glows brightly. 

Harry throws his arm up over his face, and when he can see again he and Malfoy are back outside, on the street, with Muggles walking by, paying them no mind. 

“So, what does it say?” asks Malfoy, nodding at the parchment and looking perfectly at ease with having been tossed out of what Harry can only surmise was Santa’s workshop.

Harry shakes his head, handing him the parchment. “No fucking idea.” 

~


	4. The Perfect Gift - Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even the toughest shoppers have to take a break at times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Challenge:** Written for DracoHarry100's Christmas prompts #19 - 24: Hot chocolate / mulled wine / other warm beverage, Azkaban over the holidays, Mixing alcohol with former enemies / opposing houses, Apart for Christmas, Family reunion for Teddy's first Christmas, Sleigh ride. 
> 
> **Disclaimer:** The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
> 
> **Beta(s):** Sevfan and Emynn.

~

The Perfect Gift - Part 4

~

Malfoy stares at the parchment. 

“So?” says Harry, impatient. “What does it mean?” 

“No idea.” 

Harry groans. “Merlin, was that whole thing a waste of time, then? Look, Malfoy, can you or can’t you help me, because if not—” 

Malfoy raises an eyebrow. “Shopping is a process, Potter, and we’ve barely started.”

“What?” Harry stares at Malfoy. “You’re joking.” 

Malfoy smirks. “I’ll have you know I never joke about shopping. Now come on.” 

As Malfoy takes off, Harry trails behind him, scowling. He’s hungry and tired and even the sight of Malfoy’s shapely arse ahead of him is not enough to jolt him out of his doldrums. _I’m never going to find a gift for Hermione. I’m going to show up at Christmas with nothing…_

Still brooding, he follows Malfoy into a building, only looking up when he almost runs Malfoy over. “Wha—” He blinks. “Where are we?”

“I’ve made an executive decision. We’re stopping for refreshments,” says Malfoy, holding up two fingers to a waiter. 

“But we don’t have time—” Harry inhales, and the scent of chocolate almost makes him swoon. His stomach grumbles. 

Malfoy smirks. “It sounds like you’ve been outvoted.” He gestures. “Come on, Potter. There’s no reason to starve just because we’re shopping.” 

Biting his lip, Harry hesitates a moment, but Malfoy’s already being seated and, well, what could it hurt to have a little snack? 

When they waiter brings the menu, Harry’s a bit overwhelmed. “What’s good here?”

“The hot chocolate is fabulous,” says Malfoy. “Or, if you’d like to get an early start, the mulled wine is stellar as well.” 

Harry rolls his eyes. “Hot chocolate will be fine. It’s probably not a wise idea to mix alcohol and—” He pauses, not sure how to say what he's thinking. 

“And what?” Malfoy asks. His eyes narrow. “Former enemies? People in opposing Houses? Slytherins?” 

Harry blinks. “Not where I was going with that. I just meant I probably shouldn’t be drinking when I’m going to have to make a decision about what to buy. Who knows what I’d get for Hermione then?” 

“Ah.” Malfoy’s shoulder relax. “Fear not, Potter. I’d never let you get her anything horrid.” 

“What about expensive?” Harry asks. 

Malfoy hums. “That’s another matter. Perhaps it _is_ best if we both avoid the alcohol.” 

They order hot chocolate, Malfoy requesting a chocolate croissant with his, Harry a piece of treacle tart. As they wait, they sit in silence. 

Harry clears his throat. “Was that really Santa Claus?” 

Malfoy shrugs. “Maybe? I mean, who can know? And elves apparently live a very long time. Even if he’s not, he’s a handy person to know.” 

“I suppose.” Harry grins. “I know someone who’d love to meet him.” 

“Who?” 

“My godson, Teddy Lupin.” 

Malfoy’s mouth drops open. “You’re Teddy’s godfather? Salazar, you do know he’s my cousin, yes?” 

Harry thinks about it. “Yeah, I guess I knew that, I just never thought about it. Andromeda’s very excited about a possible family reunion this year—” He trails off as he recalls why a reunion is necessary. “Er…”

“It’s fine, Potter.” Malfoy sighs, fiddling with his napkin. “I’m just glad that last Christmas was Father’s last in Azkaban. That is not a cheerful place over the holidays.” He shudders. 

Harry nods. “I’m sure.” He licks his lips. “And I’m, er, sorry about him ending up there.” 

Just then, their hot chocolate and pastries arrive. Harry assumes Malfoy won’t respond to his last comment, but once the waiter leaves, he does. “Thanks. You did your best. I do remember you spoke for him at the trial.” Malfoy exhales. “It’s been especially hard for Mother. She hated being apart from him for Christmas. She’s really looking forward to celebrating the holidays with me and Aunt Andromeda and Father, the whole family.” He sips, his face relaxing. “Delicious.” 

“And Teddy. He’ll be there, too.” Harry takes a drink, biting back a moan. “Merlin, that’s fabulous.” 

“Isn’t it?” Malfoy smiles. “And yes, Teddy will be there, too. He’s quite enchanted Mother, actually. And me, too, to be honest.” 

“He’s a great kid,” Harry agrees. “Have you got him a gift yet?” he asks, taking a bite of his tart.

“Teddy?” Malfoy nods, taking a neat bite of his croissant. He chews, swallows, and Harry tried not to watch his throat move. “He’s Quidditch mad,” Malfoy continues, “loves the Falcons, so I got him his own uniform.” 

“Ah.” Harry laughs. “I got tickets to take him to a Falcon’s game. Oliver Wood plays for them, so we’re going to meet the team after.”

Malfoy raises an eyebrow, looking impressed. “Very nice, Potter. That’s a gift I wouldn’t mind getting myself.”

“Oh?” Harry clears his throat. “Well, as it happens, I do have an extra ticket. Would you like to go with us?” 

Malfoy blinks. “I…yes, I’d love to. That’s decent of you, Potter.” He smirks. “I’ll be sure to keep it quiet, however. Otherwise people might think it’s a date.” 

Feeling bold, Harry smirks back. “Would that be such a problem?”

He’s treated to the sight of Malfoy’s mouth dropping open again. “It wouldn’t be for me,” Malfoy finally says quietly. 

“Me either.” Harry gives Malfoy a slow, appreciative once-over. “I wouldn’t mind one bit.”

Malfoy’s eyes go a molten silver. “Potter, are you flirting with me?” 

“If you have to ask, I must be doing it wrong,” says Harry. “Sorry. It’s been a while—” His words stumble to a stop as Malfoy reaches across the table, taking his hand. 

“No need to apologise.” Malfoy smiles faintly. “It’s been a while for me, too.” 

“Really?” Harry asks. “Someone who looks like you?” 

Malfoy laughs softly, the sound making something inside Harry clench. “You, Potter, are good for my ego.” 

“Yeah? You’re not so bad yourself,” says Harry. He grins. “Have you thought about how we’re going to take Teddy to the game?” 

“It wasn’t exactly what I was thinking about this second, no,” murmurs Malfoy, his eyes dropping to Harry’s mouth. 

Harry swallows hard. He can’t just lean across the table and snog Malfoy, can he? 

“But clearly you are,” Malfoy continues. Eyes back on Harry’s, he inclines his head. “So what were you thinking?” 

“A sleigh ride,” Harry says. “One of those flying rides you can arrange from Diagon.” 

“He’d love it,” Malfoy agrees. “And it has one other advantage.” 

“Oh?”

“Yes.” The light in Malfoy’s eyes is wicked. “It’s very romantic.” 

“Once we drop him off,” Harry breathes, “we can…um—”

“We can see what happens,” murmurs Malfoy. “Now, as…comfortable as this is, we need to find Granger a gift. There’s another place we could try, only I’m not sure it’s open. If only we could c—” His eyes go wide. 

“What?” says Harry. “What is it?” 

“Those numbers Nick gave you. Can I see them again?”

“Sure.” Harry pulls the parchment out of his pocket. “Here you go.” 

Malfoy spreads it out on the table. “Yes! It’s a telephone number.” 

Harry stares. “Bloody hell, it is!” He blinks. “Wait, _you_ know about telephones?” 

Malfoy snorts. “Of course.” And, pulling out a mobile, he inputs the numbers.

Harry shakes his head. “How…why… You have a mobile?” 

Malfoy motions for him to be quiet. “Hello. Yes, who is this I’m calling?” He listens, then nods. “Lovely. Thanks.” 

“Well?” Harry asks. “Who is it? And how is it you have a mobile?” 

“I’m a modern wizard, Potter.” Malfoy laughs. “Pansy made me get it. It’s her new thing and she always wants to stay in touch. Anyway, I was right.” 

“Okay, where did you call?” Harry asks. 

“A stationer’s shop.” Malfoy signals for the bill. 

“Paper? I’m getting her paper?” 

Malfoy smiles. “You’ll see.” 

~


	5. The Perfect Gift - Part 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After shopping, there's nothing better than some well-earned relaxation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Challenge:** Written for DracoHarry100's Christmas prompts #25 - 29: Ridiculously cute Christmas displays / ads, Lucius as Santa, Inviting someone unexpected for Christmas dinner, Bringing joy to orphans, Gingerbread house competition. 
> 
> **Disclaimer:** The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
> 
> **Beta(s):** Sevfan and Emynn.

~

The Perfect Gift - Part 5

~

“Right,” says Harry as they emerge from the restaurant. “I take it you know where we’re going?” He feels energised, refreshed, although he does miss the warmth of holding Malfoy’s hand in his. 

“Of course.” Malfoy looks at him for a moment, a small smile on his face as if he knows exactly what Harry’s thinking. “I should Side-Along-Apparate us, though,” he finally says. “It’s…safer that way.” 

Harry rolls his eyes. “You just don’t want to tell me where we’re going,” he mutters. 

“Maybe,” murmurs Malfoy. Grasping Harry’s hand, he pulls him into an alleyway. “Perhaps I want it to be a surprise, or maybe I just want to touch you.” 

“Oh.” Harry exhales. “In that case, feel free to never tell me.” 

“Eager, Potter?” Malfoy leans in until their mouths are almost touching. “Alas, we’re still on a mission. Perhaps once it’s over—”

“Definitely once it’s over,” replies Harry. The words are ripped from his throat as Malfoy chooses that moment to Apparate them. He clings to Malfoy and, when they land a moment later, he groans. “Bastard. I hate Side-Along-Apparating.” 

“Like to be in control, hm?” Malfoy’s smirk is filthy. “Have you ever tried letting someone else be in charge? You never know, you might like it.” 

Not sure they’re still talking about Apparating, Harry swallows hard. “Hermione’s gift,” he reminds both of them. “We’re here to find her the perfect gift.” 

“True.” Malfoy hums. “This way.” 

They emerge onto a busy street lined with shops. Harry looks around. “Oh, wow.” 

Malfoy sighs. “Try not to look. Some of the displays that Muggles create can be—”

Harry has already tuned him out. “Merlin,” he breathes, pressing his face up against a glass window. “Look at this! That bunny’s wearing a Santa suit! And so are those puppies!” 

Malfoy takes Harry’s arm, steering him away from the captivating pet shop window display. “The Christmas displays around here are ridiculously adorable,” he says. “Try not to look directly at them.” 

Harry laughs. “Oh come on, it can’t be that ba—” He stops. “Holy…Malfoy, look at that gingerbread house display! Oh wait, I think it’s a competition. We should stop and vote! Malfoy? Malfoy! My word, they even have little gingerbread animals and people!” 

Placing his hand on his back, Malfoy propels Harry past the gingerbread, past the stuffed animal displays, and even a man who looks eerily like Lucius Malfoy, who is dressed like Santa and ringing a bell while standing beside a large red cauldron. “That man’s raising money to bring Christmas joy to orphans,” Harry says, reading the sign. “Shouldn’t we—?”

“We’re on a mission,” Malfoy says. “If you get caught up in the shop displays and by charity organisations we’ll never make it to the stationary shop in time.” 

“I want to donate money.” 

“Do you have any Muggle money?” Malfoy asks. 

“Some.” 

“Enough to buy Granger’s gift and donate?”

“Damn. No.”

“Then you’ll have to figure out a way to do it later,” Malfoy says. “I’ll help you, okay?” 

“All right,” Harry agrees, although he does continue to stare into the shop windows as they walk past. 

“Here we are,” Malfoy finally says. “‘Paper Perfection’.” 

Harry eyes the shop. It looks tiny, cramped. “This is where Santa told us to come?” He frowns. “Maybe he was joking?” 

“Would he ever joke about Christmas?” Malfoy asks. 

“No, probably not.” Nodding, Harry pushes open the door. The shop is surprisingly airy, and stacked bottom to top with books and piles of paper and parchment. There are also all shapes and sizes of pens, and quills, and bottles of ink in every colour.

“How can we help you?” asks the young woman at the desk. 

Harry clears his throat. “I’m looking for a gift for a friend.” 

“I see.” The woman smiles. “Does your friend like decorative stationery?” 

Harry shrugs. “No idea. She does take a lot of notes because she reads a lot. I was going to get her a book, but, well, I think she has them all.” 

“Ah.” The woman purses her lips. “Well, in that case, perhaps a journal? That way she could write her own book some day.” 

Harry blinks. “Um, sure, that could work.” 

“We have many styles of journals,” the woman says. “Follow me.” 

She presents Harry with a wall of leather bound journals, in various colours and sizes. Harry eyes several, but one stands out. His eyes keep going back to it. “Can I see that one?” he says, pointing.

The woman hands him a periwinkle blue leather journal. “I love that colour,” she says. 

Harry nods. “So does my friend.” 

Malfoy, behind him, hums. “That would make a lovely gift, Potter.” 

“Yeah.” Harry opens it. The inside of the cover is lined with a print featuring flowers and birds. He smiles, imagining charming it so the birds move. “This one,” he says, tapping the cover with his finger. “And some blue ink, please. Oh, and that quill.” He points.

“Would you like it all gift wrapped?” 

“Yes,” Harry says. “But I’d like to leave a message inside the book first?” 

“Of course.” The woman goes to get the ink and quill, and while her back is turned, Harry slips out his wand and mutters his charm. The birds on the paper start to fly about and chirp faintly.

“Clever,” murmurs Malfoy. “Look out, she’s coming.” 

Hiding his wand and closing the book, Harry hands it to her and she wraps it, along with the other items, in silver and blue paper.

“She’ll love this,” Harry says as they walk out, package in hand. He ducks into an alley and, shrinking it, slips it into his pocket. “Thanks, Malfoy.”

“Anytime.” Malfoy hums. “So, do you want to go and look at the displays now? You seemed pretty captivated before.” 

“That sounds interesting,” Harry admits. He steps closer to Malfoy. “But since we’re done shopping for Hermione, I thought we could do something else instead.” 

Malfoy laughs. “We’re out in the open,” he warns. “Someone could see.” 

“Let them,” murmurs Harry, and right there, in full view of a street full of Muggles, he curls his hand around Malfoy’s neck and, pulling him in, kisses him. 

The kiss is tentative at first, but Malfoy tastes so good, his distinct flavour added to a lingering hint of chocolate is so addicting, that Harry can’t seem to stop. He deepens the kiss, his tongue stroking against Malfoy’s until they’re both moaning together. Malfoy has to pull away. 

“Har—Potter,” he gasps. 

“I like hearing you say Harry.” 

Malfoy’s eyes darken. “Harry. Is there anyone else you need to shop for?” 

Harry tries to gather his scattered thoughts. “No, I think I’m finished.” 

Malfoy smiles. “Then there are better places we could be doing this,” he suggests, the light in his eyes mischievous. 

Harry grins back. “I like the way you think.” 

“Yours I presume?” Malfoy says. “Since you like to…take charge.” 

Harry exhales. “Yours is fine, actually,” he whispers. 

“Ooh, ready to hand over the reins? How very Gryffindor.” 

Harry laughs. “Oh, I didn’t say that. Let’s see how it goes, shall we, _Draco_?” 

“Fair enough. Hold on,” Draco says, dragging him out of sight of the street. 

A moment later they land in a living room, the fading evening sun shining through the window. They kiss, slowly exploring each other as they sink onto a nearby sofa. 

Draco is a brilliant kisser, and soon, Harry is straining against him, panting. “More?” Draco asks. 

Harry nods, whimpering as Draco’s fingers skim along his thigh to lightly graze his erection. “Bed?”

“I didn’t want to presume,” murmurs Draco, and, joined at the lips, they stumble out of the living room and into a bedroom, shedding clothes all the way. 

Harry, focussed on Draco, doesn’t notice much except the press of Draco’s body against his as they fall onto the bed and writhe together, and the overwhelming sound and smell and feel of Draco as he quickly prepares, and then enters him. 

Draco is hot silk, and as he undulates beneath Harry, it’s all Harry can do not to lose himself in him and come immediately. When he wraps his legs around Harry and arches up against him, it’s too much, and Harry pours himself into Draco, moaning as Draco’s come spills between them in warm bursts. 

They lie there for a while, recovering, and when Harry finally turns to face Draco, his face is as open as Harry’s ever seen it. “Come with me to Ron and Hermione’s for Christmas dinner,” he says, trailing a hand over Draco’s face. 

Draco blinks. “Not possible,” he says. “I have Christmas with my family, remember?” He hums. “But you could come to that.” 

“I—” Harry runs his thumb over Draco’s lower lip. “I’m not expected there.” 

“So?” Draco shrugs. “Mother and Andromeda would welcome you, Teddy would no doubt love it, and Father….” He exhales. “Father will have to get accustomed to the idea that many things have changed while he was in prison.” 

“All right,” says Harry slowly. “But then we need to visit Ron and Hermione’s afterwards. I want you to see her reaction to her gift.” 

Draco nods. “Agreed.” He smiles, and it has an edge. “Now that that’s settled, perhaps we can explore what we discussed earlier.” 

Harry suppresses a shiver. “What do you mean?” he asks, feigning innocence.

Draco rolls on top of Harry, straddling him. “Ready to…give up some control?” he purrs. 

Harry grins up at him, his hand settling on Draco’s hips. “Absolutely. Do your worst.” 

~


	6. The Perfect Gift - Part 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happiness gives a new perspective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Challenge:** Written for DracoHarry100's Christmas prompts #30 and 31: New Year's Eve party, Starting off the new year with a new perspective.
> 
> **Disclaimer:** The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
> 
> **Beta(s):** Sevfan and Emynn.

~

The Perfect Gift - Part 6

~

“See? You survived.” 

Harry raises an eyebrow. “I’m not sure I would have if we’d stayed much longer,” he admits. “The way your father was looking at me—” He shudders. 

Draco smirks. “That’s only because you mentioned his resemblance to that Muggle bloke we saw fundraising for orphans that day when we got Granger’s gift. The idea that he could have anything in common with a Muggle is probably a shock.” 

Harry coughs. “Yeah, that probably wasn’t the best thing to bring up. But when I get nervous I tend to babble.” 

“That’s not the only time you babble,” Draco whispers. “You tend to do it when my tongue’s in your arse, too.” 

“Draco!” Harry’s sure his face is glowing. “Stop!”

“Stop rimming you?” Draco smirks. “Why should I? I like doing it.” 

“You are impossible,” Harry hisses, linking their arms and speeding up their exit from the Manor. Once outside, they slow down. “What if your mother had heard that?” 

Draco smirks. “I’m pretty sure Mother knows we’re fucking, Harry.” 

“Still, no need to give her a blow by blow description!” 

“That wasn’t a blow by blow description.” Draco laughs. “But I could do that…” 

“Stop!” Harry cries. “You’re terrible.” 

“And you’re delightfully innocent,” Draco says. “I can’t help but tease.” 

“I am not innocent!” 

Draco licks his lips. “I know.” 

Groaning, Harry turns to face Draco, grasping his arms. “Will you stop? I want your mother to like me, not ban me forever for corrupting her baby.” 

“Oh, please. It’ll be fine. Mother loved having you, and Teddy was clearly thrilled, which made Andromeda happy, which, again, made Mother happy. You’re in no danger of being disinvited.” 

Harry blinks. “Teddy did seem pretty happy to see me.” 

“Happy?” Draco snorts. “Try ecstatic. He didn’t leave your side the entire time.” He pouts. “It was annoying, actually. If he weren’t so cute—”

Harry chuckles. “Are you jealous that you couldn’t sit beside me at dinner?”

Draco huffs. “I had plans.” 

“What, were you going to grope me all evening?” Harry says. 

Draco’s cough says it all.

Harry shakes his head. “It was probably for the best since I’m not sure I could have sat still with your hand on my leg.” 

“Whatever. You just need to get used to me groping you in public,” Draco says, waving his hand. “Especially since it’s one of my favourite pastimes.” 

“Okay, but no groping at the Weasleys', all right?” 

“Why not?” Draco frowns. “Ashamed of me?” 

“Of course not. I’ll just never hear the end of it from Ron if we scandalise him.” 

Draco makes a rude noise. “If he wants to be scandalised, I’ll take care of that.” 

Oh, bloody hell. Harry groans. “That wasn’t a dare.” 

Draco smirks. “Of course it wasn’t. So, are you Side-Along-Apparating us there?” 

Harry shakes his head. “Promise you won’t do anything too…” He pauses, pondering how to put it. 

“Scandalous?” Draco finishes. His grin is wicked. “You have _met_ me, right?” 

“Which is why I’m mentioning it at all!” 

Draco laughs softly. “I do love winding you up. Now come on, it’s time to go.” 

“Draco—” Harry sighs as he’s pulled into a kiss that quickly deepens until they’re panting into each other’s mouths. Drawing away, Harry leans his forehead against Draco’s. “You are so infuriating. And don’t think you distracted me enough that I’m going to forget what we were discussing! Promise you won’t grope me at the Weasleys'.” 

“Or else what?” Draco replies, tone arch. “You’ll punish me?” 

Harry moans, his cock immediately perking up as he recalls the last time they indulged in a bout of punishment. “I can deny you sex, you know,” he threatens. 

Pulling back, Draco, not looking remotely worried, hums. “I’d be more worried if you could actually keep your hands off me.”

Harry sighs. Draco’s right and they both know it. Since getting together, they’ve been practically inseparable, and Harry spends all his time around Draco in a state of almost perpetual arousal. “I’ll think of some way to punish you that you won’t like.” 

“If you say so.” Draco kisses him sweetly. “Now are we going to the Weasleys' or are we going to say never mind and go back to yours and shag?” 

Shaking his head, Harry pulls Draco close, and within moments they’re at the Burrow. The house is lit up, clearly the party is in full swing. 

Hand in hand, they walk towards the door. It’s already open and Harry pushes it open. 

“Harry!” Molly, beaming, pulls him into a hug. When she grabs Draco, too, Draco looks a bit gobsmacked. “You made it. how wonderful! Come and eat something.” 

Despite having sat through a formal dinner at the Manor, Harry finds space for a couple of mincemeat pies before he and Draco make their way into the sitting room. 

“Harry!” Hermione sees him and waves and they work their way over to her. “Finally! It’s been two weeks since we’ve seen you.” 

Harry, feeling himself flush, hugs her. “Sorry. Been…busy.” 

Hermione, eyebrow raised, tilts her head to look behind him at Draco. “So I see.” 

Harry coughs. “Erm…”

Rolling his eyes, Draco moves past Harry. “Happy Christmas, Granger,” he says, extending his hand. “Since Harry and I are dating, it looks like we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other. I hope we can manage to get along for his sake.” 

Hermione’s eyes narrow, but she nods, shaking his hand. “I think we can,” she says. She smirks. “After all, if you upset me, I’ll just punch you again.” 

Harry hold his breath, but Draco just laughs. “Fair enough.” 

After that, everyone relaxes, Ron claps Harry on the back and actually begins being cordial to Draco. Finally, the time comes for gift exchange, and everyone is ripping open presents. 

Hermione’s clearly delighted with Ron’s choice of a first edition Arithmancy tome, along with the memoirs of a famous Arithmancy expert. “What about those romance books you were looking at?” Harry leans in and asks while she’s distracted. “Did you get any?” 

“Yeah.” Ron coughs. “Valentine’s Day.” 

Harry laughs. “Smart.” 

When Hermione gets to Harry’s gift, she shakes it experimentally. “Hm.” 

“You didn’t get her an Arithmancy book, did you?” Ron mutters. 

Harry rolls his eyes. “After I said I wouldn’t? No.” 

“Okay, then.” 

Hermione rips into the paper and, nervous, Harry chews his bottom lip as he watches. Suddenly, a hand slips into his. He looks up to see Draco smiling at him, and he relaxes. 

“Oh!” exclaims Hermione, as she opens the journal. “It’s perfect. I needed a new one.” 

“The birds on the inside are charmed,” says Harry. “And I knew you liked that colour—”

“I love it!” Leaning in, Hermione hugs Harry. “Thank you.” 

“See?” murmurs Draco afterward. “I knew she’d love it.” 

The party begins to wind down, and people start to head home. “Are you two going to Luna’s New Year’s Eve party?” Ron asks. 

Harry nods. “Definitely.” 

Draco, encountering a chess set on the sideboard, says, “Who in the family plays?” 

Ron’s grin is feral. “Why?” 

Draco hums. “I haven’t found anyone to worth playing against for ages. I thought maybe I could tempt them into a game or two.” 

“Is that so?” Ron, to Draco’s clear surprise, slings an arm over his shoulders. “I didn't know you liked chess. How have we never talked about that?” 

“In all our many personal conversations?” Draco says, tone dry. 

“Point.” Ron hums. “Well, since we’re all trying to get along, maybe we should set up a match sometime—”

As Harry watches them fondly, something warm unfurls in his chest. Happiness. He’s happy. 

Hermione chooses that moment to pull him aside. “So, you and Malfoy, hm?” she says, eyes searching his. 

“Yeah.” Harry exhales. “Are you all right with it?” 

Hermione laughs. “Oh, Harry. I’ve known it was coming since sixth year, so I’ve had time to adjust. And I’ve been warning Ron for a while.” 

Harry shakes his head. “No wonder he’s so relaxed.” 

“So are you.” Hermione tilts her head. “You look happier than I’ve seen you in ages.” Leaning up, she kisses his cheek. “And that’s the best gift of all. That’s all I want for you.” 

“Thanks, Hermione.” Harry exhales. “It’s weird, actually. It feels like the beginning of something big.” 

“Nice way to start off the new year,” Hermione says, patting his arm “Now I’d better go rescue Ron. He’s looking far too excited about beating Malfoy at chess.” 

Later, as he and Draco walk outside hand in hand, Draco says, “Am I to assume that Granger approves of us?” 

“Yes.” Harry smiles. “She does.” 

“Lovely.” Draco pats Harry’s arse. “You realise this means I can now grope you in front of her, yes? And where she goes, so does Weasley.” He grins. “This is going to be so much fun.” 

Harry laughs. “What am I going to do with you?” 

“I have some suggestions,” purrs Draco, and as they Apparate away to put some of the suggestions to the test, Harry’s happiness knows no bounds. 

~


End file.
